


To Waltz

by iasant



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iasant/pseuds/iasant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward Elric is no good at dancing, but Winry has decided that it is high time that he learned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Waltz

He already hated dancing. 

“No, no….Ed! You’re doing it all wrong!” Winry looked up at him, pulling away from his hold and scowling a bit. They had been at it for hours. Leave it to him to admit he knew nothing about dancing the night before they were supposed to attend the wedding of a friend.

Or perhaps it should have been: leave it to her to decide that he needed to learn to dance the night before they attended a friend’s wedding. Either way, both were on their last nerve with the other.

“You put your hand on my back just here. Don’t you dare go lower.” She took his hand, moving it into the proper place on the small of her back. She then grabbed his hand in hers and put her other one on his shoulder. “Now it’s step…one…two…step…”

“Aww hell Winry. I’m the man, I’m supposed to be the one who leads.” He at least knew he was supposed to have control over that part of it.

“Well go ahead if you actually want to do it!” She muttered under her breath about him being acting like a little baby. He yanked away from her.

“What did you say!?” His face was red and he glared at her.

“Nothing Ed.” She rolled her eyes.

“You called me short.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “OH I DID NOT!”

“DID SO!”

“JUST COME HERE!” She hollered and grabbed his hands, yanking him towards her.

He huffed. “I’m taller than you now you know…”

“I know Ed, but just take the lead if you are going to.” He put his hands in the proper place, not quite sure he wanted to be so close to her. She was such a pain in the ass. She considered him a bigger one. They couldn’t look each other in the eyes. So he stared at his feet instead. “One…two…three. One…two…th…”

It was Winry’s turn to yank away, though not due to anger. Despite his close watch on his feet, somehow her small one had gotten stuck under his. Under his automail foot all the same. Any anger he had at her lifted, replaced by some worry as he watched her take a seat on the sofa. 

“Aw…geez Winry…why’d you step there…”  
“Edward! My foot was in the right place.” She began to slip her shoe off her foot to take a look at the damage. 

“Yeah, yeah…are you okay?” He knelt down on the floor in front of her, and reached out for her foot. “Here…let me see it.”

Winry extended her foot to him. It wasn’t hard to see he was trying to be sympathetic at this point. The boy just didn’t really know how to apologize. No, not boy, she supposed. He was definitely more of a man now. They were all growing up, everyone they knew in Resembool. After all, the whole point of this disaster was to prepare him to dance at the wedding of two former school friends. He moved his hand over her toes, looking them over. “When did you go to medical school.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, I can tell when a toe is broken. I’ve broken enough things to know that much.” He wiggled each one, and though she winced a couple of times, she was obviously alright. Ed came to the sudden realization that she had really cute little toes. He quietly asked himself if toes could even be cute. He put her foot down. “You look fine to me, but…uh…I can get you some ice if you want?”

“No…it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Just needed to sit down for a moment. That really hurt.”

“Guess your beloved automail isn’t so perfect huh?” He teased gently, taking a seat next to her.

“Oh please, it’s not my automail that did that. It’s your terrible dancing.”

He sighed, looking down. “I really am bad at it, aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to be…you’ll get better. It’s only your first lesson after all. After all, I learned to dance on my dad’s shoes, following his steps. She smiled for a moment, a far away look in her eyes, but she turned her focus back to him just as quickly. 

Ed went to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think my dancing on your feet didn’t work so well.”

She laughed and wiggled her wounded foot. “You think?” 

His own quiet laugh joined hers. “Sorry about that.” Maybe he was learning how to apologize after all.

She shrugged. It was way too late to really be up doing this. After all, with the ceremony and the partying the next day, they should be in bed sleeping. Looking at him though, she couldn’t bear the thought of separating from him just yet to go to their respective bedrooms. 

“Ready to call it a night?” He asked. She shook her head.  
“Not just yet.” She slipped her shoe back on. “I think I can help.” She went over to the record player in the corner and slipped a disc on. She kept the volume low so that it wouldn’t wake up Al or Granny, who had headed to bed hours ago. Returning to him, she offered a smile, holding out one of her hands. “I can’t let you go just yet…think of all the girls that will be disappointed if they ask you to dance and you step on their toes.”

There was a bubble of jealousy that rose in her stomach. She didn’t really want him to dance with any other girls.

He stared at her, gently taking her hand. There was a sudden lump in his throat that he swallowed. He didn’t really want to dance with any other girls. 

The music was soft, and his hand found the proper place on her back. All on it’s own. Her hand went to his shoulder, and she tentatively closed to gap between them. For the first time that night he was fully aware of how soft her hand felt in his. She was fully aware of how when she was that close their hearts seemed to beat together. “Just…take it slowly…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He took the lead. For the first time that night, she actually let him. He was right, she was a control freak. Together, they danced by candlelight. Somehow it was easy to dance when they were on the same level with one another. Their bodies listened to each other’s movements instead of fighting them. They were silent…they let eyes and hands and feet do the talking. 

They forgot steps and patterns and expectations. Eventually her head made it’s way to his chest, and he was allowed to just hold and rock her.

Maybe he did not hate dancing so much after all.


End file.
